Strong Support

The next morning at dawn.

Lin Fei arrived at the company early.

-- Feiyang Music Movement Culture Media.

She greeted everyone with a smile as she walked in, looking in excellent spirits and radiant.

Today she wore a simple white cotton short-sleeved T-shirt.

Paired with light blue denim shorts below.

The shorts ended right at mid-thigh, making her legs appear even longer and straighter.

On her feet, white sneakers that matched her outfit.

A pink baseball cap sat on her head.

Her dip-dyed flaxen hair cascaded over her shoulders, skin fair, brows and eyes like a painting.

With this outfit and that delicate, pretty face, no one would doubt she was a college student in her early twenties if she stepped outside.

In reality, she was already twenty-nine this year.

After this New Year, she'd be a woman starting with a three.

In her early twenties, she had already been hailed as the Xia Kingdom's Last Heavenly Queen!

She entered the music scene at eighteen, and with a voice of unparalleled recognition, perfect timbre across different vocal ranges, powerful breath control, and mastery over multiple styles, she exploded onto the scene right from the start!

Fast songs, slow songs, high notes, mid and low ranges—there was nothing she couldn't sing.

Back then, people also called her the Ever-Changing Heavenly Queen.

She was a true singer capable of performing "grand songs."

At certain large-scale official events, she was in no way inferior to those national team singers.

Her influence radiated across the entire Xia-language sphere.

She even had many fans abroad.

In just four or five years, she made over twenty classic pop hits famous, songs that remained highly popular to this day.

They were also staple picks for many people at KTV.

The key point was that Lin Fei rose to fame when the music scene was already half-dead, yet she burned so bright she turned purple!

Top-tier endorsements came pouring in nonstop.

Back then, even many veteran gold-medal lyricists and composers who had sealed their pens couldn't resist reaching out proactively, wanting to collaborate with her.

But then a series of events suddenly struck, sending her from the peak to the abyss overnight.

From National Goddess to someone everyone denounced, the speed was so fast it was almost unbelievable.

After that, she vanished from the public eye of the Xia Kingdom.

Until today, as the truth surfaced, no matter how countless fans who had come around called out for her, she never appeared publicly again.

In truth, everyone in the music circle knew that after retiring, Lin Fei had never given up making music.

As the boss of a small entertainment company, she had stayed behind the scenes all these years.

Promoting newcomers, participating in soundtrack work for some films, TV dramas, and other large events.

Her income naturally couldn't compare to her heyday, but it was more than enough to support the company and herself.

Lin Fei had been feeling a bit troubled lately, only lightening up in the past couple of days.

It all started when a film and TV company she had collaborated with many times before came to her proactively, specifically requesting that Kong Xi, the hot new-generation singer from her company, perform an insert song for a xianxia drama.

In truth, based on Kong Xi's status alone, she wasn't enough to command a high price of one million.

The other party was mainly after the traffic Kong Xi carried.

She had no objection to such a win-win situation.

But then, for a long time, Kong Xi couldn't produce a single satisfactory piece.

She was a bit worried, so she specially sought out several gold-medal lyricists and composers who had once wanted to collaborate with her.

The result left her disappointed and furious.

Even though time had proven that the incident back then wasn't her fault—in fact, she had been completely wronged and blackened by a group of people—

She was no longer the Xia Kingdom's Last Heavenly Queen in people's mouths.

Coupled with Kong Xi's identity as an internet celebrity, the other party unanimously declined, one after another.

What was worse, some even hinted that if she was willing to pay the price, this favor wasn't impossible to grant.

They could even write her a few songs specifically to help her make a comeback and regain her fame.

It infuriated her to no end.

She directly blacklisted such people, never wanting to contact them again.

As the deadline to hand over the song drew closer, even though the production side hadn't pushed her, she still felt some anxiety.

And yet, this problem was quietly solved by Kong Xi herself without a word!

This girl has some luck on her side!

She had already listened to Always Been Quiet.

Unlike Kong Xi, who had never been in love and only felt a surface-level resonance, and unlike Yan Yu, who kept her emotions tightly bottled up and refused to show them—

The first time she heard Kong Xi's version, she couldn't hold back and burst into tears in her own office.

Cried so hard her makeup was ruined.

When she left, afraid someone might see her, she spent ages touching up her makeup and deliberately stayed until very late before heading out.

And this was despite Kong Xi not yet fully capturing the song's essence—that quiet sorrow buried beneath calm composure.

As an outstanding singer, she naturally possessed strong empathetic abilities. Though she had never experienced that kind of romantic regret and wasn't that old, her own life had seen dramatic ups and downs.

She could completely relate.

Wronged, slandered, smeared with mud, called the most watered-down Heavenly Queen—she had never once stepped forward to defend herself.

Yet this one custom-made drama song broke her defenses instantly.

Without truly experiencing that lingering heartache, It's hard to write lyrics that hide such intense emotion beneath plain words.

Lin Fei, nearly thirty and never been in love, sighed with deep feeling.

Even though the song described a modern setting, she still sent it over without hesitation.

Because she felt this song was a perfect fit for that drama!

Even if Kong Xi couldn't fully convey the song's essence, it still aligned remarkably well with the drama's plot!

So she didn't add a single extra comment.

Art is universal.

She believed the other party would understand.

Half an hour later.

The drama's director called her directly.

"Teacher Lin, this song is so fitting. Even though it's set in modern times, that feeling—hey, I'm not a musician, so it's hard to describe in precise terms, but this is exactly the flavor!"

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! It matches the core of our drama perfectly!"

"Great song, great lyrics. Hey, Kong Xi's just too young, the sadness is a bit lacking, but it's still very good—no complaints!"

"I have no issues on my end. With this song, I'm even more confident in our drama!"

This director was also a friend Lin Fei had known for years, one who hadn't distanced himself because of that incident back then.

They didn't interact much, and he was a deep, reserved person, rarely showing such emotion.

For him to be this excited meant he genuinely loved it.

Soon after, the production company's top brass also contacted her, saying that after listening to the song, they all thought it was exceptionally good.

They even specifically asked Lin Fei if Kong Xi had written it.

If so, that would be a huge bonus!

Again, that one million had a significant component riding on Kong Xi's traffic appeal.

But if Kong Xi's songwriting ability was this strong, not only was the money well spent, but future collaborations could also expand!

Lin Fei replied that it was a lyricist and composer introduced by a friend, and she wasn't familiar with them. Only then did the other party reluctantly drop the matter.

Having finally settled this, Lin Fei was delighted, but also curious about the song's lyricist and composer.

Not just now—even back when she first debuted, the Chinese music scene had already started its decline.

Though there were still plenty of good songs, the veteran gold-medal lyricists and composers were gradually retiring, and the new generation couldn't sustain the momentum.

As the internet grew more developed and entertainment shifted toward everyone-as-media, the decline of the music scene became almost inevitable.

So back then, too many people had pinned their hopes on her.

Now, across the entire Chinese music scene, there were hardly any active gold-medal lyricists or composers left.

Even Ma Shen, a second-tier singer-songwriter, had simply weathered the years until he became a big name.

After hanging up, she first asked Kong Xi's agent.

The agent said they didn't know either, only that Kong Xi had bought the song with her own money.

Lin Fei said the company could cover that cost and reimburse Kong Xi later.

After all, the company had taken a sixty-percent cut upfront, and during the contract period with Kong Xi, they would continue to enjoy various subsequent earnings.

Doing nothing would seem unreasonable.

She had always been generous to the people in her company, whether in terms of salary or benefits, setting an industry-leading standard.

She had even been criticized for disrupting the market.

Fortunately, its volume was small enough that it wouldn't affect too many people—otherwise, it might have been as viciously targeted as she was back then, going after Feiyang Music Movement.

Kong Xi was already the hottest newcomer to debut in recent years!

Since her agent didn't know the creator's identity, she decided to ask Kong Xi herself.

But Kong Xi, having been instructed by Song Dao, didn't tell the truth.

She didn't even show her that contract.

She said she wasn't very familiar with the creator either—that Yan Yu had found them.

Lin Fei was a little speechless, wondering if this might be a pseudonym for some top-tier lyricist or composer.

Someone who wanted to make money but didn't want people to know they were writing songs for an internet celebrity, so they came up with a meaningful pen name?

First of all, the lyrics were excellent!

Second, the melody and arrangement were no slouch either.

Amidst the plainness, there was a faint trace of sorrow.

She looked at a song the way a martial arts master watched an arena match—whether there was real skill or not, she could tell at a glance.

She wondered whether she should ask Yan Yu to get in touch with that Water Strike Three Thousand and send a red envelope over.

One, to express gratitude; two, to show goodwill and lay the groundwork for more collaboration in the future.

Don't let Kong Xi's folk singer image fool you—she could actually handle many different styles of songs.

Her vocal range was wide, she had explosive power, her breath control was rock steady, and her tone was distinctive and easy to recognize.

She was a talent worth cultivating.

As long as she had good songs, she was bound to become famous.

Even today!

She had never believed that nonsense about music being dead.

No matter how restless the times got, people still loved listening to songs.

Saying old songs sounded better—that was just because there were no new songs that could match them!

So if there weren't any, just say there weren't any—how did that mean it was dead?

As for herself, she was probably about done with that life. She didn't dare, and wasn't really willing, to face the public again.

She had experienced the scene of overwhelming praise, and she had also endured the torrent of abuse.

She was tired.

Living quietly like this was fine.

But she had to think about the people in her company.

When she first signed Kong Xi, it was actually because she saw the girl's potential.

And vaguely... some similarities to herself!

Lin Fei knew Yan Yu—many of their songs were recorded at her place.

They were close friends and partners.

Still, she decided to let Kong Xi contact Yan Yu first.

Just get the message across.

Just in case the other party turned out to be one of those old perverts from back then using a pseudonym—if she walked right into it and they said something, she might lose her temper and offend them.

She didn't care about herself, but she didn't want to affect others.

Whoever the other party was, since they had given the song to Kong Xi to sing, it meant they could cooperate. At worst, she'd just give up a bigger share of the profits.

After sending Kong Xi a voice message explaining her thoughts, Lin Fei added a specific reminder.

"If they make any inappropriate requests, think carefully about the consequences. Don't agree casually."

Just a reminder—she'd done her duty.

After all, in this circle, everyone craved fame, fame craved explosive popularity, and explosive popularity craved staying power.

If someone was willing to pay the price for it, others couldn't stop them, and shouldn't try to.

She walked over to the sofa opposite her desk.

Lazily leaning back, she propped her long, fair legs up on the coffee table.

Turning on the speakers, she listened to Always Been Quiet again.

Humming along under her breath.

Even after all these years, she had never let her basic skills slip, so even a soft hum was incredibly beautiful.

In fact, she even felt a faint urge to sing a version herself!

"In the end, I still love singing," she sighed.

Then she smiled helplessly, opened her phone, and started scrolling through Audio-Visual.

The next thing she knew, a clip of music critic Cui Luo popped up on her feed.

The moment she saw that face, her good mood vanished instantly.

She thought about swiping past it, but curiosity got the better of her.

Ten minutes later.

Lin Fei's chest rose and fell slightly, a faint trace of anger flickering in her strikingly beautiful eyes.

This guy was like a toad crawling onto your foot—not biting, just disgusting!

Over the years, he'd taken every chance, openly or subtly, to belittle her. She'd always ignored him, but he just wouldn't stop!

Water Queen!

Those were the two words she hated hearing most.

She didn't have many works—after all, from debut to retirement, it was only about five or six years.

Most of them were love songs.

Back when she was at her peak, a bunch of people had already been nipping at her heels, and Cui Luo was naturally among them.

He said she only had her looks, that her songs had no value, no musicality—just a bunch of shallow pop tunes unworthy of the title Heavenly Queen.

But even after she'd left the scene, he kept using her to chase clout.

Strangely enough, on any other day, faced with this kind of criticism, she would've just brushed it off.

Maybe it was that song, Always Been Quiet, stirring up old memories from back in the day.

Lin Fei's emotions were unstable, even a little irritable.

She'd also listened to Song Dao's See Through Love, See Through You. From a professional standpoint, it really wasn't all that sophisticated.

But did sophistication automatically make a song good?

For listeners, as long as a melody was pleasant, could lift their spirits or make them sad, and struck an emotional chord—that was enough!

All that talk about "high art" was just so-called experts locking themselves in a little circle and jerking each other off.

She'd suffered from that kind of attack back then, and now, just as the stagnant music scene had produced a decent new singer-songwriter, he got popular overnight, and the moment anyone mentioned him, it brought traffic—so a pack of wolves immediately surrounded him.

These people really crossed the line!

Already feeling a bit melancholy, Lin Fei got swept up in the moment.

She picked up her phone, opened Shuibo—an account she logged into often but hadn't posted on in years—and typed out a flurry of words.

Without a second thought, she hit send.